


Wings Unfolding

by NoiseMaking



Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game), Original Work
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-04
Updated: 2021-02-04
Packaged: 2021-03-15 19:48:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29194821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoiseMaking/pseuds/NoiseMaking
Summary: An in-depth exploration of the relationship between a Prince and his bodygaurd;how it starts, how it transforms and how it can end.The world and characters are my own creation with it it being loosely set in a Dungeons and Dragons type of fantasy setting.
Kudos: 1





	Wings Unfolding

**Author's Note:**

> "I want to write fanfiction about them but unfortunately since they're my OCs and my world I think that's??? Just fiction??"
> 
> Don't know if this is gonna stick but I Need An Outlet here.

_Dear Mom,_

_Yes, I’ve been making sure to stay cool in this heat. Yes, I’ve been making sure I’ve been getting enough sleep. No, I probably haven’t been eating as well as I could be but I’m sure your delicious zucchini chocolate bread will help remedy that. Thank you again, for that._

_No, I am not nervous for my new assignment. I would not be put in this position if Spymaster Adair did not think me ready for it. To be assigned the shield of the future King of Bavel is the highest honor one could aspire for as an Agent of the Heart. I have been training for this my whole career, nay, my whole life. To protect him means protecting the soul of Bavel itself._

_~~Okay. I am a little nervous.~~ _

Zora Nox Delmirev set her fountain pen down as she stared at the paper. If she shows any sense of being unsteady, her parents would most likely just make a trip “just to visit”. She knows they worry, and that worry has to be exasperated by taking such a high profile job. Should she just scrap this letter and write a new one?

A question to answer when she gets back home, she supposes. The sun has not yet peaked over New Ridgefall’s walls. Yet, the orange underbellies of the clouds felt almost like a reprimand, “You wanted to be at the castle before it got to this point.” She taps her claws along her desk at the thought. Her iridescent green scales shimmer in response.

She stretches her shoulders back and hears a resounding crack. The only time she allows her shoulders to slouch is when she gets to write back home and for good reason. She gives herself one more moment. Taking the time to quickly crack each individual knuckle, and pop her neck. It was going to be a long day. 

Zora slipped out the door, closing her apartment door quietly. Descending the two flights of stairs before emerging on the quiet streets of New Ridgefall. The Jewel of New Ridgefall, to be exact.The citadel of the city, and truly a small town in of itself.

It was this morning walk to the castle that was her favorite time of day. The only real sound was her boots hitting the cobblestone. You could smell the bakery and other establishments prepare their food for the day. There was always at least a bird or two celebrating the start of the morning. Zora especially needed the peace today. She anticipated she’ll be appreciating these solitary walks more and more with her new position...But she shouldn’t be getting ahead of herself.

The best part of these walks? There was no one else around.

Sometimes she’ll see other Agents that are going home from a shift change, but that was only when she left. It’s unlike when she walks home at night. The citadel is bustling along with Sentinels and Agents alike exchange drinks and express camaraderie.

It’s distracting. It’s loud. It’s _nauseating._

The walk, as always, ended just too soon. She approached the castle’s gates and nodded at the guards, Agent Valzes and Agent Chlebek, as she passed.

“Starting your babysitting job today, ye?” Valzes asked, her red skin looking somehow even rosier at how pleased she was at her own quip.

“The prince is a fully grown man. I am to be his shield, not in any way--”

“Yes, as you told us yesterday,” Chlebek responds almost chipper, giving a gentle reprimanding look to Valzes.

Zora almost falters.

“Yes. Well. Have a good day Agent Chlebek, Agent Valzes,” Zora’s words come back stronger with every word. She nods again to the two agents and she walks just a bit faster until she reaches her destination. Certainly not feeling like she handled that conversation as well as she could have.

She creeps into Spymaster Adair’s tower. The first floor, typically teeming with Agents who are chatting, griping, and joking about their jobs and general lives, is currently empty. Save for one agent taking a nap in a ratty armchair. Zora climbs the stairs, avoiding every spot she knows groans under pressure, until she reaches the top. She presses her ear to the door. Nothing. Not even the sound of pen to paper. A sigh of relief travels through her before turning the handle and slipping through.

Spymaster Adair’s office, in Zora’s opinion, was one of the most interesting places on the grounds. Trinkets and baubles caught your eye at every turn. Origami swans hung through the ceilings, gently flapping their wings through the use of some kind of enchantment. All to distract you from the very important papers that are hidden by tedious puzzles and cabinets.

Zora beelines to one specific interesting cabinet. The puzzle to get in was easy enough, shifting colored flames in the order of Spymaster Adair’s favorite colors. Navy, then canary yellow, then grey, then bright teal. The lights burn bright white and, as usual, the cabinet clicks open. Zora looks through the file tabs…Duchess Iona Travers...Duchess Evita Travers...No, skipping ahead a bit...Queen Rosario Herrera...Prinx Sol Herrera...Where are you?

The gentle sound of ice hitting glass brings her to a halt. She can pinpoint the smell of bourbon now among the ink and shaved wood, stronger than it should be. 

“You’re here early,” Zora says.

A bark of laughter bounced off the walls, as raspy as it is joyous.

“May Bavel breathe easy knowing you’re on the side of our spies and not the thieves.”

Zora releases a sigh as she turns around. She doesn’t want to meet Spymaster Adair’s eyes, but she makes sure she does so.

Eyes typically grow lighter with age, yet at 407, Spymaster Adair deep brown eyes were still impossibly dark. Her brows quirked and her smile cocked to the side as if she’s enjoying this whole process of catching her mentee in the act of rummaging through her things. 

“Nervous,” Spymaster Adair asks before she moses over to her desk chair, setting down her near-empty cup of bourbon, and climbs it to sit on her desk. It’s the closest she gets to seeing Zora eye-to-eye, as a gnome.

“No,” Zora says, keeping her voice and stance firm, “I’m not.”

“It wasn’t a question, Agent, it was a statement,” Spymaster Adair says flatly, before a cackle reverberates through her, “Unless you’re just looking for Prince Raphael’s file for some light reading?”

Zora opens her mouth. Closes it. Opens it once more.

“I just happened to be on grounds and I thought it would be good to skim through the file to see if there was anything missed,” Zora states as nonchalantly as possible.

“Bullshit,” Spymaster Adair barks, laughing once more, “If by ‘on the grounds’ and you mean ‘arriving half an hour early’ and by ‘checking’ you mean ‘pour over Raf’s file before slipping out and pretending nothing happened.’”

“I,” Zora starts before stepping forward, “Am merely checking to ensure that I’ve accounted for any sort of flight risks that Prince Rafael comes with before assuming duty today. And it’s a good thing I did, too. It appears to be missing.”

“You mean this file?” Spymaster Adair brings up a file, her amused face fixed before dropping it next to her on her desk, hitting the wood with a slap.

Zora wants to step forward, to take it. It’s right there. The spymaster wouldn’t stop her. But Zora knows that she is keeping it next to her for a reason. It’s something that can only be given to her. Damn it.

“Have a moment to help an old woman with something?” Spymaster Adair asks with a sigh.

Is this a test? Zora wonders.

“I’m always at your service, Spymaster,” Zora says, which brings a smile to the gnome’s face.

“What do you think of when I say the name, ‘Martin’?”

This _is_ a test.

Zora’s jaw clenches as her orange eyes flit back and forth. Martin. _Martin._ The name is faintly familiar and she knows she can get there if she reaches back enough. Zora pointedly ignores the head tilt Adair does as she delights in the process a little too much.

“Agent Hess Martin,” the words appearing on Zora’s tongue before she can even fully process them. She nods resolutely before continuing, “Dwarf. Fair skin, red hair. An agent of five months. I was tasked to give her the tour around the grounds. Currently partnered with Agent Michael Ali.”

It’s difficult to not feel the swell of pride that blooms over the spymaster’s face. It’s contagious, a feeling which Zora suspects is very much on purpose.

“ _Was_ partnered with Ali. He requested a partner change.”

“The reason?”

“The main reason given is that Martin seems jumpy. ‘Preoccupied,’ was the exact term used. He doesn’t trust her to have his back. Minor, but I heard in passing they disagree on dwarven politics which I’m sure didn’t help.”

“Hm.”

"I’m partnering Ali with the new kid, but I don’t know what to do with Martin. She’s got good potential. Good head on her shoulders.”

“Quick.”

“You’ve noticed.”

“It was hard not to, during our last drill. I didn’t put the name to the face at the time.”

“She’s got that look to her too. Determined, ya know? Hate to let her go but we got no more veterans to pair her with.”

“Pair her with the new kid--Agent. The new agent. Tyrell Rucker, correct?”

The suggestion makes Adair lean back slightly. It intrigues her, certainly. The gears are turning in her head for a moment more before responding back, “Agents usually need to work for at least a year before being paired with rookies.”

“Martin knows the process, the layout, scheduling, and expectations well enough at this point. Otherwise, it’s all just red tape.”

“I don’t want to pair a fresh face with someone who has a record of making their partner feel unsafe.”

“Ali’s fairly clear on his stance of supporting the King. Can’t imagine he’d be feeling comfortable with someone who opposes that.”

“...And her ‘preoccupied’ nature?”

“If Martin is preoccupied, giving her this extra responsibility will make or break her. She’ll rise to the occasion of helping her fellow Agent, or it’ll be the tell that perhaps she is better suited for a career as a Sentinel.”

“Interesting.”

“Besides. I met Rucker a week ago, sometime after your interview. He seemed like...A bit of a joker? For lack of a better term. Martin seems like she would only benefit from such levity.”

The spymaster’s eyes search hers. Zora wished she could say after five years, she nailed down a tell that revealed her boss’s thought process. Yet there was none. Eventually, a smile spread across Spymaster Adair’s face, the crows feet building on each other beautifully.

“Perhaps. A trial period would have to be conducted.”

“Naturally.”

Without breaking eye contact, the gnome grabbed Prince Rafael’s file and held it out in front of her. Zora’s heart skipped. In painfully measured steps, she moves forward with hand outstretched. Her claws touch the folder. And scrape along the paper as the folder slips out of her hand, which then folds into nothing. Zora looks up at Adair confused and almost annoyed, but Adair now has a much softer expression with a voice to match.

“I wouldn’t have recommended you for this position if I didn’t think you could handle it, Z. Flight risks and all.”

“Spymaster Adair--”

“You need to trust yourself.”

“Finley. _Please._ All I need is a glance.”

Finley Adair’s expression shifts into a smirk. The gnome opens the file, red tabs flash, marking where Prince Rafael has conducted something less than royal. She shuts it a mere moment later. “There,” she says, “A glance.”

A sharp sigh escapes Zora, as she can only watch as Adair shuffles off of her desk. “Now, you should go get a coffee and keep yourself preoccupied the best you can until eight. Maybe try meditation? Raf is a chatty one so enjoy the silence while you can.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Zora nods, defeated. She shuffles towards the door, looking back just in time to see the file as it is put back into the cabinet. The flames appear back in their colors. Finley waves a hand and the colors appear in a variety of jewel tones.

“Good luck cracking this one. It’s an ordered rank of my _least_ favorite colors.”


End file.
